The It Crowd
by some kind of exquisite
Summary: NextGen!fic. Reimagines Hogwarts as a playground for the children of the rich and famous, with the nextgen characters as the players. It's les liaisons dangereuses in Hogwarts.
1. Prologue

******A/N: I should probably add several disclaimers/trigger warnings so you can't say I didn't tell you so.**

**#1: These characters aren't mine. This world isn't mine. They belong to JK Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing and Warner Bros.**

**#2: This story contains scenes and allusions to rape and eating disorders which may act as a trigger to some people. Fair warning.**

**#3: This should be obvious but I don't actually condone any of my characters' actions (duh) and I'm not pushing any 'agenda' in this story. **

**So, this is basically a story which follows the basic 'bare-bones' structure of Gossip Girl/Cruel Intentions/Les Liaisons Dangereuses but set in Hogwarts with next gen characters. It's an idea I thought would be fun to write and it started off as tongue-in-cheek social commentary but quickly evolved into something a bit darker. I'll try to better straddle the divide between comedy and drama. I'm also really unhappy with the prologue, just fyi, but I do know who's 'narrating' it, if you will.**

**So, without further ado...**

**The It Crowd**

_Mum says I should keep a diary of my sixth year at Hogwarts because it's your final two years that really count. Of course she'd say that. She was involved in a battle of epic proportions in her final two years. I'm involved in a battle myself, in a way; a battle of social proportions. Except, it isn't fought with wands and Unforgivable curses. It's fought with catty words spilled from pretty lips coated in Madame Catterall Diamond Shine Gloss. It isn't a race to the final horcrux, it's a race to the final pair of Zingotti stilettos that Victoire Weasley was spotted wearing last week. It's a constant battle that started sometime in the third year and, at this rate, will probably never let up. In first and second year, there were no cliques. No 'it crowd'. Sure, the Potters and Weasleys received a disproportionate amount of attention because of their family's involvement in the war. But eleven and twelve year olds care about little more than which house they're put in and when they'll learn a spell that's actually useful to their lives. _

_It was in third year that groups were clearly demarcated. Some of the older students would take the third years under their tutelage, so to speak. Train them to preside over Hogwarts' social scene. The choices were obvious. Cocky, suave James Potter with his mussed black hair and cheeky brown eyes glinting from behind round frames identical to his famous father's. Beautiful, intelligent Rose Weasley with her shiny chocolate hair and staggering IQ. The athletic, 'rough around the edges' twosome of Dominique Weasley and Lily Potter – beaters for the Gryffindor quidditch squad. Dominique isn't as beautiful as her older sister, Victoire, and while it seems like her Veela genes have failed her, nepotism gets you far in Hogwarts. Lily, on the other hand, is tall and model thin with pin-straight red hair and big brown eyes. _

_Then there's Victoire's personal favourite and right-hand woman, Roxanne Weasley. She may not have had Victoire's blinding beauty or Rose's impressive brains, but her social climbing was not to be scoffed at. She evolved from a wallflower no one took notice of, to dating the second most in demand boy at school – Lysander Scamander – and dangling the rest of her year around her finger. This might finally be the year she tumbles down the social stratosphere, though. Not even she can survive the devastating rumours that she's been doing the horizontal jig with the infamous Scorpius Malfoy._

_You're not going to get anyone more 'in the know' about these scandalous kids than me. So you can continue admiring them from afar, speculating on their deepest, darkest, dirtiest secrets…or you can keep reading as I take you through a year at Hogwarts, playground of the wealthy and famous' children. _

_I know who's fucking their boyfriend's best friend, who's not as into women as he would have you believe, and who can credit her svelte figure to something a little more than a healthy lifestyle. It's going to be crazy._

**.theitcrowd.**


	2. One

**ONE**

"Are you tagging along with us again, mate?" Albus asked the disembodied blond head in his fireplace. He was reclining against a plush cream-coloured bean bag, scarfing down salty snacks three days before he was due to commence his fifth year at Hogwarts.

"Uh, I'm not too sure."

"Well, where are your parents?"

"Still in Seychelles. I might have to go with Roxanne and Victoire this year."

"So, she wants to go public?" Albus balked. "But what about Lysander?" He ignored the jealousy searing his stomach.

Scorpius frowned. "I really don't know. I don't think _she_ knows what she's doing either. One minute, she's totally happy to go public and fuck what everyone else thinks. The next, she's terrified of what Victoire will say and she really doesn't want to piss off Lysander. You know he'll go around telling everyone she's a slag and all sorts of things."

Albus shook his head. It was amazing how everyone at school could still believe that Scorpius was a bad kid because of his family. Despite Roxanne dangling him helplessly all summer, he was still concerned about _her_ feelings and _her _reputation.

"She's not worth it, mate." Albus yawned, tossing his bag of snacks aside.

"You've said that, like, a hundred times. I think she's worth it so leave me be."

"Whatever." Albus shrugged. "This is going to blow up in your face – both of your faces."

While he couldn't see his shoulders, Albus was sure Scorpius was shrugging right back. He blew the wisps of white-blonde hair across with forehead out of his eyes.

"It doesn't matter to me. You know she's spent years creating this image that everyone at school buys into. It's total bullshit. But it means a lot to her and I can see why it would be scary throwing all that away for some boy."

_You're not 'some boy'_, Albus wanted to shout. He kept quiet though, rolling his eyes to signal he was bored of this conversation.

"Sounds more like you should be telling _her_ that. Anyway, I've got to head off. I still have a few things I have to pack."

"Alright…bye, Al."

"Later, Scorp."

Scorpius pulled his head out of the fire place, rubbing the ash and soot from his pale neck. He felt the cool silver of his round charm fall out of his pocket and into his hand. He flipped it open, lips turning up at the corner when we saw the photo. It was taken at Victoire's mom's second wedding. Roxanne had flowers woven through her curly dark brown hair and a café-coloured spaghetti strap dress hugging her figure. He held her loosely from behind in his tux, smiling brilliantly. Roxanne had wanted him to dispose of the photo immediately but he'd held his ground, swearing not to show a living soul.

It gave him hope whenever he thought their relationship was impossible.

**.theitcrowd.**

Lily's heart raced faster as she became aware of what was happening. Teddy's hand had breached the denim barrier of her jean skirt and was kneading her sex through her thin panties. She wasn't aroused or even the least bit excited. She was terrified.

"Teddy, stop."

He groaned, pulling himself up. Lily may have been tall for her age – she was a model and had covered Witch Weekly last month – but Teddy was twice her size and frightened her sometimes.

She asked herself for the billionth time in the past month why she was doing this. To prove that she could fuck Victoire's boyfriend and get away with it? Why did that give her a sick satisfaction? Victoire had never personally wronged her.

"Baby, come on…" he pleaded, tugging at the hem of her shirt.

"No, I'm sorry." She squeezed her eyes shut, refusing to see the pleading in his puppy dog eyes.

"You're so beautiful," he cooed, brushing her hair behind her ear. "And you're going to be some sort of supermodel one day. Or a champion Beater. I just wanna be able to say I was the first man to properly shag you."

"That's disgusting," Lily told him.

Teddy pulled back, sneering. His eyes were stormy.

"Not as disgusting as your fall from grace when I tell Victoire you've been sleeping with her boyfriend."

"But I haven't-" Lily quieted. He was right. Victoire would believe him and Lily would be social roadkill.

She gulped. "How do you want me?"

"Bend over, arse in the air."

His hair turned a deep chestnut brown, eyes pulsating a soft blue. His full lips turned up at the corner as he pulled his chinos down to his ankles. Lily would never have guessed someone so beautiful could be so sick.

She swallowed her scream at the violation, gripping the sheets in her hands as he pushed himself deeper in.

"Oh God, Lil. You're...so…fucking…tight."

It took all her resolve not to cry and remind herself that her own unsatisfied ego got her into this predicament.

"That's my girl." He collapsed beside her a minute later. "You're so damn beautiful, Lil. Just like your mum. You know, they say she was quite the village whore in her day as well."

"Shut up," Lily whispered hoarsely. He ignored her.

"You're so beautiful," he continued. "Not as beautiful as Victoire, of course. God, how did one man get so lucky?"

He was referring, of course, to the fact that Lily had propositioned him in the first place, oblivious to how little power she would hold in their relationship.

"You don't think she'd be up for a threesome, would you?" Teddy laughed. "Nah, she's way too fucking frigid. I swear, all the Veela women are frigid. Waste of all that beauty, to be honest."

Lily turned around, closing her eyes as though it would block out the sounds of his inane rambling.

"Nah, you can't fall asleep love." He gave her a gentle push. "Victoire's coming over in a bit. You need to get out."

It took all she had not to cry until she was back in her own bedroom.

**.theitcrowd.**

"I'm gonna be the only virgin sixth year," James complained. Lysander chuckled next to him.

"Don't worry about it, kid."

"I'm only a year younger than you." James frowned, ducking to avoid Lysander's hand coming down to ruffle his hair.

"It's not all it's cracked up to be." Lysander shrugged.

"You and Roxanne have, you know…done it?" James turned beet red.

_Snap out of it_, he told himself. _You're a man now._

The idea of the taller boy next to him pounding into his cousin should have been nauseating but James had always been a little depraved. Not to mention he was so frustrated at his lack of experience that it was oddly arousing.

"Nope." Lysander's lips popped on the 'p'.

"Then…?"

"Shagged a lass I met at the Leaky Cauldron a few weeks ago. Gave amazing head but she's loose like a woman who'd just birthed triplets. It was like throwing a wand into a cauldron."

James chuckled. "So you're not with Rox anymore?"

"Nah, we're still on."

James furrowed his brow. "But then…You're not cheating on her, are you?"

Lysander grinned. "You're so naïve, kid."

The idea was confusing to James. Roxanne was an attractive girl. If he weren't her cousin, he'd even describe her as 'hot'. She stood out among all the pale, redheaded willowy Weasley girls with her small buxom frame, tan skin and curly hair. She was funny too and really kind. Well, to her family and friends anyway. She could be a bitch at school.

The idea of shagging a complete stranger over his own girlfriend made no sense to James.

"Got your eye on any girls?" Lysander asked, stamping out the foul-smelling cigar he was smoking, likely to look cool.

"Matilda Hawthorne is pretty cool, I dunno."

"Aunt Cho's daughter?" Lysander whistled. "If she weren't a fourth year…"

James frowned. "Don't. Anyway, she's really nice. And pretty."

"She's more than pretty," Lysander continued. "Her mum is still pretty smoking too."

James sighed. "_Anyway_, when are you going to tell Roxanne?"

Lysander fixed him with a stern look, gripping his shoulder hard. "Tell Roxanne I've been sleeping around? Are you out of your bloody mind? She makes me look good. She's hot. And I'm in Victoire's good graces as long as I'm with her."

"Then why'd you cheat on her?"

"You understand nothing," Lysander grunted. He walked away swiftly, throwing a casual wink to Rose who grimaced back at him.

"Have you seen Louis?" she asked James innocently. James made a face.

"Still desperately throwing your panties at him, I see?"

Louis was born to Aunt Fleur and the eccentric aging billionaire, Gilderoy Lockhart. After his father had wiped Lockhart's memory, he spent his remaining years at St. Mungo's where Aunt Fleur was a healer until she convinced him to sue the hospital for mistreatment. Louis was conceived in this time, leading to Aunt Fleur and Uncle Charlie's divorce. They put off marriage due to court proceedings and what-not. When Louis was fourteen, they married officially and whenever old Gilderoy kicked the bucket – any day now by the state of him – they stood to inherit his billions. It was convenient all around.

Louis was impossibly good looking with his gleaming gold hair and cornflower blue eyes, exaggerated by his Veela genes. He was also a one way ticket to cementing any girl's position alongside Victoire as _the _queen of Hogwart's social scene. His best friend, Lysander, was already in a three year relationship with Victoire's right-hand woman, Roxanne, so he was off the cards. Rose, Lucy, Molly, and until recently, Lily, had been chasing him along with the hoards of other Hogwartian women between fourth and seventh year.

"Shut up, James." Rose glared at him, scuffing the floor with her shoe sulkily.

"Give it up, he has a very specific type."

It was true. Any woman Louis dated had to speak at least four languages, have traceable Veela ancestry, an impeccable sense of style, stand between 170 and 175 centimetres tall, and weigh no more than a runway model. In a perverted sort of way, Louis' ideal woman was his sister, Victoire.

"We'd be perfect together," she said dreamily, leaning against the banister aside him. "He needs a smart, capable girlfriend. Do you think maybe he needs a tutor? I heard he was struggling with Potions…"

James rolled his eyes. "Remember that time you tried dying your hair silver to draw his attention?"

"Shut up, James."

"Just saying. He probably won't end up with any one in our group, anyhow."

"Why not?"

"I heard he was dating a Beauxbatons girl. He finds continental European wizarding schools more exclusive and elite. God, he's such a wanker."

"Don't say that, James."

"Whatever. You know it's true. You can do better, Rose."

"Better than _Louis Lockhart_?" She scoffed. "Yeah, right."

**.theitcrowd.**

Dominique twisted her limp hair this way and that. Her period was due in less than three days and despite not eating in over a day, she felt bloated. She wasn't happy with what she saw in the mirror. Instead of Victoire's thick cascading curtains of silvery blonde hair, she had flat orange locks, cut to her chin, and freckles to match. Instead of Victoire's wide almond-shaped eyes, she had watery little blue eyes. Instead of Victoire's infuriating perfection, she had her own inadequacy.

"Dom, we need to head out. Come on. We'll miss the Express at this rate."

Lily poked her long, swan-like neck into the room.

"What are _you_ wearing?" Dominique asked, unable to keep the whiny tone out of her voice.

Lily stepped fully into the room and did a sarcastic little twirl. She wore a pair of high waisted navy shorts that would only highlight Dominique's stumpy, fat little legs and a mustard yellow sleeveless top tucked in. The colour would somehow look hideous on her, Dominique reasoned, even though they shared the same ruddy complexion.

"These shoes are by a Muggle designer," Lily said. "Christian Louboutin. They're gorgeous, right? Victoire's started wearing more things by Muggle designers so I guess that's the new thing this year."

There was that name again. Victoire. Dominique felt the glass of water she'd had for breakfast coming back up.

"Let's go," she grumbled. "I'll change into my robes anyway, so who really cares?"

**.theitcrowd.**

It was Victoire, Roxanne, Dominique, Lily and Rose that arrived at King's Cross in a group. They knew that come seventh year, Victoire would be gone and one of them would take her place as head of the group. And one of them wouldn't be there at all.

Teddy was waiting for Victoire on Platform 9 and ¾ as usual. She tumbled into his waiting arms and buried her head into his shoulder.

"I'm going to miss you so much."

"Not as much as I'll miss you."

His eyes were trained on Lily as he spoke though, a lopsided smile indicating they shared a secret. Lily thought she was going to be sick.

"Lysander!" Roxanne half-walked half-skipped to where her boyfriend stood with a group of seventh years.

"Hello, love." He scooped her up, landing an embarrassingly wet kiss on her mouth to which his friends wolf-whistled.

"Stop that." Roxanne blushed, wiping her chin and retrieving a tube of cherry red lip gloss to re-apply.

She wiped imaginary dust off the skirt of her shell pink dress. She scoured the platform for the familiar pointed face and white blonde hair. She spotted Scorpius looking disagreeable aside his mother who fussed over his black overcoat.

_I'm sorry_, she tried to communicate with apologetic eyes. He either didn't see her or he did a damn good job of pretending not to.

The train pulled into the platform six minutes later and the girls tumbled into their own compartment. Victoire wiped imaginary tears from her eyes – actually crying would require she ruin her expertly applied mascara – and cooed:

"I'm going to miss him so, so much. He's such a _man_ compared to all the immature gits at school."

Lily had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. Teddy was anything but a 'man', she thought miserably. Their tryst hadn't ended with that one afternoon in his room. He'd blackmailed her into returning to his bedroom for increasingly degrading acts. Things Victoire would rather _die _than even contemplate doing. She felt used and abused by the time he threw her out of his bedroom for the last time this morning.

By the time she tuned back into the conversation, Rose was speaking.

"So, I know why I'm single. What's your story?" She motioned toward Lily and Dominique.

_Too fat, too ugly_, Dominique thought.

_Too busy shagging Victoire's boyfriend against my will_, Lily thought. She refused to give it the word 'rape' and label her situation something all too frightening. No. The longer she convinced herself it was all her fault, the better she felt. Well, she felt terrible, but it was easier to blame herself.

"Too busy," Dominique mumbled.

"Yeah, same," Lily said quietly.

"Still saving yourself for Louis?" Victoire said, not unkindly. There was no blatant patronisation in her tone but the pathetic nature of Rose's pursuit hung all too heavily in the air.

Rose rubbed her glossy pink lips together and cast her eyes downward. "No, I..I just haven't found the right person."

But Victoire had already moved on, eyes trained on the little gold compact before her as she pinched her cheeks. Victoire lived by the archaic rule of 'whores wear rouge, ladies pinch their cheeks'.

"He received head from a tarty little ginger I think we're all familiar with."

She knew she had them enthralled now and it was all any of them could do not to lean forward in their seats and shout, "WHO?"

Rose bit first, practically turning blue in anticipation. "Oh? Does she have a name?"

"Yeah…Molly Weasley."

"Oh, fu-" Dominique gave an audible gasp, then immediately clamped her mouth shut.

"She was invited to a charity event my father hosted in Westminster, to save some endangered Amazonian bird. She's been interning with the charity. She arrived in the gaudiest dress I have ever seen. Like, hun, I know your tits are all you have going for you but there's no need to push them up to your chin."

Victoire gave a lilting, musical laugh. They all tittered quietly, eager to hear more.

"Well, Louis was there in an uncomfortable tux and looking for a distraction. I think she thought they were going to make love or something. He got his blow job and left. He left a dollar in her cleavage."

Rose paled, even as the others laughed raucously. There was nothing more relaxing and self esteem-boosting than hearing of fellow high-profile Hogwartians thoroughly humiliate themselves.

Still, Rose wanted to believe Louis was a great guy who'd spent too much time around Victoire and just needed to find a nice girl. Not a raging arsehole.

"Well, get ready ladies. This is my final year. So, make it count." Victoire winked at them before dropping her compact into her bag and leaving to join her senior counterparts.

"Louis is fit," Roxanne spoke first. "Lily, Rose. One of you needs to get on that."

Dominique scowled. "Shit. At this rate, I'll be single as a sixth year too."

"Don't worry about it." Lily shrugged. "I doubt it's all it's cracked up to be."

"Yeah," Roxanne said. "You'll find someone eventually. Don't stress."

Secretly, she hoped Dominique was right. Really, the 'competition' was only between her and Rose as they'd both be seventh years next year. Dating Lysander was the only edge she had on Rose.

She was stupid to even think of leaving him for Scorpius Malfoy.

**.theitcrowd.**


End file.
